


I Know You're Lying (Rain Down Anyways)

by headfirstfrhalos



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Blindness, Delusions, Demonic Influence, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gore, Hallucinations, M/M, Mind Control, Near Death Experiences, Prophetic Visions, Religious Fanaticism, Religious Guilt, Self-Destruction, Self-Mutilation, Slow Build, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-17 14:06:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5873326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/headfirstfrhalos/pseuds/headfirstfrhalos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was holy, chosen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. INTRODUCTION

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by 'Implicit Demand for Proof'

**1995**

It was a vision he had when he was seven. He was on his tire swing in the backyard, going so high he was sure he was going to fly into the sun. The wind on his face and the lightness in his body were so gentle and loving that he found himself letting go. Flying away from the tire, away from the tree, he never felt so free until he smashed onto the hard-packed ground. A burst of pain, his lungs refused to hold air, and he stared into the blue, blue sky. He felt so tired, the screaming of his mother so far away, and white spots began blooming over his vision. Soon everything was white, and a gray shape grew from the center. It stood in front of him for a few moments, regarding him. 

"I am GOD," it said, answering his question though Tyler had asked nothing.

His mother had told him about God. He was your spiritual father who loved and cared for you and you always had to capitalize when you called Him 'He'. And he had a Son (whose name you also had to capitalize).

"Everything happens for a reason. This is the most fortunate moment of your life," he continued.

Tyler was confused. He had fallen off his swing and his mother was screaming and he could still hear her at the back of his mind, his father shouting something. It didn't seem to lucky to him.

"Excuse me, but I want to go back now. My family is worried about me."

"But you are alive, are you not?" He asked.

"Yeah."

"Do not worry. You'll come back. I must to talk with you first."

"Um. Okay."

The gray shape slowly became more defined after Tyler spoke. He still could not make out any precise details, but he could point out a head, arms, and legs. Lightning sparked from his eyes. 

"I have chosen you to serve me. Do you know why?" He asked.

Tyler's mind raced for an answer. His bible study teacher had mentioned that being good would get you closer to God. Was he good? He didn't argue with his parents or rob banks or anything that he'd been told was bad.

"Was I good?" he asked.

"No."

"What?!" 

"No person on earth is good. Evil is the natural state of humanity. Only the love and compassion from GOD can save someone. Otherwise, they only feel death."

Tyler felt cold. 

"Everyone? Even babies?" 

"You would be surprised, TYLER. That is why you must learn to forgive and depend on me. Otherwise, you will fail." 

His voice was like thunder when he spoke those last words. A chill ran through him. 

"What do I need to do?" he whispered.

"All you need to do is listen to me. I will always be with you."

He wasn't sure if he wanted God following him around all the time if He would always be this frightening. But he shrugged. Maybe He wouldn't talk to him too much. 

"Okay."

"Good. Now I will send you back to your family. Don't be too alarmed." 

The brilliant white quickly faded to black, God still standing in the center of his vision as colors began to flash over the black and dazzled him, red on blue on green on purple and a few colors that he's never seen before. And all of a sudden he was in a bed beneath fluorescent lights, and his insides jolted like he was on a train slamming to a stop. He groaned in pain, because all of a sudden his head started hurting like someone was whacking his skull with a mallet. Someone stirred beside him.

"Tyler?"

"Mom?"

She rose from his bedside and hovered over him. Her face was blurry, but he knew it was her. Her voice, her perfume, he shut his eyes as he took that in and she hugged him, a bit looser than she normally would. He was grateful, because he was pretty sure his head would pop with the pressure if she held him any tighter.

"You're awake," she whispered into his bandaged forehead.

"What happened?"

She pulled back to look at him. 

"You fell off your swing and hit your head. You're in the hospital now. No no, don't move too much, let me get that for you," she said as Tyler reached for a glass of water on the side table. 

She held it up to his mouth as he drank desperately, breathing hard as he felt the cool water settle into his stomach. 

"Where's Dad? And Maddie and Jay and-"

"They're at home. It's late at night."

"Oh. How long was I sleeping?"

"For a few hours. The doctors were worried that you might not wake up, but they don't know you, how tough you are. You get that from your father, y'know," she said as she stroked his hair.

"So can we go home?"

"Not yet, dear. You need to stay for a few days so they can make sure everything is okay."

"M'kay."

He turned his thoughts to other things. For example, the fact that he could hardly see a thing. He thought it was the brightness of the lights that had impaired his vision, but it's been nearly five minutes and his eyes definitely should have adjusted by now. 

"Mom? Everything's blurry."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I can't see anything." 

Tyler heard his mother press the 'Call Nurse' button on the side of the bed.

* * *

Blind. That's what they declared him after a blurry doctor came in and pointed at a blurry chart at the other side of the room and asked him to read the blurry letters. He couldn't read any of them. The doctor _scratchscratchscratched_ something onto a clipboard, _rrrrrripped_ out a sheet, and handed it to a nurse, who _patterpatterpattered_  away as fast as they could while the doctor took his mother into another room and closed the door so he couldn't hear what they were talking about. He put his hands to his ears to try and hear better. 

"Uncommon, but not unheard-"

"Back of the head-"

"Brain tissue swelling-"

"Permanent?"

"Only time will tell." 

The grinding of a chair being pulled out, and then the heavy creak of someone collapsing into it. Soft weeping.

He stared blankly at the wall. The red second hand of the clock on the other side of the room was a fat, blurry worm swinging over the white face of the clock. A boulder of worry rested inside him. 

_> GOD, why can't i see clearly? i don't want to be like this forever._

_> Don't worry, tyler. It will not always be this bad. You do not need two working eyes in order to get to heaven. In fact, you will see more than the average person. Your curse is a blessing._

_> Are you sure?_

_> Yes. You will live by faith, not by sight, son. _

_> Son?_

_> Yes. You are my beloved child._

_> Okay._

_>..._

_>..._

_> I will show you many things, secrets, the past, present, and future, if you follow me. I will take care of you. And one day you will see the biggest secret of them all._

_> What's that?_

_> My true form._

_> Can you show me now?_

_> No. You would be destroyed._

_> Why?_

_> I cannot physically exist with SIN. You must become even holier than Moses to see my face._

_> Is that hard?_

_> Yes. But we will work together._

_> That sounds okay._

_> Indeed._


	2. SPECIAL EYE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He called it his special eye. It was the left one. It had never healed after the swelling in his brain had gone down. In appearance, it mirrored its twin perfectly, clear and bright, but disguised the fact that it was dead to the world. But it was special for a reason. God wasn't lying to him that night. Secrets, past, present, and future, all were revealed through that eye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little bit introductory as well. The story will really start to pick up in the next one. Thanks for bearing with me.

**2002**

Tyler probably spoke an average of five words a day. Out loud, at least. There was always company in his head. 

_> Son?_

_> Father? _ _What do you have for me?_

_> Another lesson for you. About tightropes._

_> Tightro-_

"Tyler! Are you even listening to a word I'm saying?"

Tyler's head snapped up to attention. His English teacher loomed over him, salt-and-pepper hair glinting in the fluorescent lights that framed his face like a halo around an angel of wrath. 

"Huh?"

His teacher leaned back and huffed a sigh.

"Listen, Tyler, just because you're the principal's son doesn't mean you can get away with dozing off in class."

"I wasn't-"

"Then what _were_ you doing?"

Tyler couldn't answer him. His eyes darted helplessly around the small classroom, getting nothing but smug grins in return. His insides turned to stone as his teacher stalked away, wearing the exact same smile as his students. 

"'M sorry, Mr. Moran."

"Oh, there's no need to apologize to me. Apologize to yourself when you fail this class if you don't shape up," he said, turning his attention back to the rest of the students, "So class, back to our questionnaire. Julie, number three, please."

"The death of Simon is an example of an allegory?"

"Very good."

Tyler sunk deep into his seat and stared at the light in the ceiling. It was so bright that his left eye could detect a fuzzy blob of light, which bloomed in his dead eye, white and then gray and blue. His right eye dimmed. The vision in his left eye cleared, and he found himself in another place. He saw a tightrope stretched over a yawning canyon. The stone was grey like the whole thing was carved from concrete. Or like it was on the moon. The bottom was at least three hundred feet down, and the entire inside was stained dark red. Faint moaning echoed from the bottom of the pit. Shuddering, Tyler turned his attention to the rope.

It was as thin as a shoestring, stretched tight and nailed into the ground. A small group of people waited on the other side, waving. A pillar of fire was beside them. A larger crowd waited on his side, so large he was sure it was infinite. Every one of them were silent. One of them stepped forward.

It was a young woman, no older than twenty seven, with thick black hair and skin the color of clay. She took a step onto the rope, knees visibly trembling, and promptly fell. Horror entwined his bones as he heard a thud. He looked to the people around him. No one said anything, or even looked like they had noticed. 

Another person stepped forward. An old man, no younger than seventy two, balding and stooping on a cane. Tyler knew there was no way he could get across. He wanted to shout out to him, to beg him to stop, but his mouth wouldn't open. The old man took his cane and turned it sideways, as if to use it to balance. One unsteady step, two unsteady steps, and he fell like the young woman before him. The thud, and then the clatter of a wooden cane. 

_> GOD, GOD! Why are you showing me this? This is horrible, I don't want to see this. Stop it. Please. _

There was no answer. 

A third person. Tyler was screaming inside. This one was even younger than the first woman, about his age, maybe fourteen. He couldn't see his face, but there was something so oddly familiar about him. Brown hair, a golden tan, and when the boy turned, he saw that his face was his own. No. 

Tyler desperately wrestled against his lifelessness. Real or not, he didn't want to watch himself join that red river at the bottom of the canyon. 

It was strange, watching the back of his head. It was even stranger watching himself walk to his death without a word. The first step. Wobbly, like all the others. The second step. Tyler wished he was blind in both eyes. The third step never came to fruition. He heard the wind whistling in his own ears as he watched his other self fall. Something inside him howled and crumpled into nothing.

But that thud never came. Instead, a blast of heat. He hadn't realized that the pillar of fire was gone. But now he watched himself in awe as he saw his silhouette encapsulated in fire as he rose back onto the rope, white-hot as flames swirled around his form and turned him to dust, fine specks that regrouped into a new form. And as quickly as it had appeared, the fire evaporated like it had been sucked into a vacuum, and Tyler was left agape as his new radiant self danced across the rope as steady and graceful as a seasoned ballet dancer.

Relief replaced his blood as he watched himself make it across. He turned around, and even with the distance, he could see that his face was the same, down to the pore, but somehow new. Perfect. 

  _> This is your heavenly form, tyler._  
  
_> It's beautiful._  
  
_> This is how you were meant to be. How every man, woman, and child was supposed to be. If wasn't for SIN._  
  
_>..._  
  
_> SIN tainted every person who was, is, and is to come. SIN makes people unlovable and abhorrent. I cannot stand to be near anyone who is spiritually dead. One who is spiritually dead cannot go to Heaven by their own efforts. Some may use their determination, or their earthly wisdom, but it is impossible to bridge the gap without my help, as you've seen._  
  
_> Am i being helped by You right now?_  
  
_> Yes, you are being guided and cared for by me as we speak. And I always will. It might not seem like it when the road is steep, but you should never worry about me abandoning you. I love you, my son._  
  
Tyler felt warm inside. 

_> i love you too, Father._

"Tyler! Pay attention!" 

* * *

Dinner came. Floury potatoes, buttery peas, and for dessert, a surprise family meeting. 

"Tyler?"

Tyler looked up from his leftovers. 

"Hm?"

"Your teachers have been telling us that you've been having trouble paying attention in class," his father said, "is there any reason why?"

"Are you having trouble making friends?" his mother asked.

"Not... really?"

People knew him, and not only because he was the principal's son. He wasn't picked last in dodgeball, he wasn't shoved into lockers (does that even happen?), and he didn't have much trouble with group projects. 

She cocked an eyebrow. 

"Really!"

"Are the classes too easy for you?" his father asked.

He thought of the failed history test, crumpled and hidden deep inside his backpack.

"Nope."

"Then what's the problem?" he demanded.

_> i'm going to tell them. They need to know._

He was about to open his mouth to speak, but before he could, all of his breath was suddenly gone. Like someone had pierced his lungs with a straw and sucked all the air out. His eyes bugged frantically, and he tried again, but again there was nothing.

_> Don't. _

"Tyler?" his mother asked, "Are you alright?"

His siblings, who had been watching the ordeal silently until now, started cackling. Jay choked on a pea, and Maddie and Zack both thumped him on the back until it came back out, landing on the plate with a disgusting _splat_. His parents looked at them, and then the pea.

"You can go now," his mother said to his siblings.

They scampered away, and Tyler was left alone with his parents. 

_> i won't._

Tyler could breathe now. He coughed hard, once, twice. 

"I just choked for a second. I'm good now," he said.

His parents looked at each other.

"We decided to put you in a regular high school so you could develop your social skills," his father said in his principal voice, the one that tried too hard to be calm but in truth, could barely mask the frustration behind it. 

"If you... if you _choose_ to have a bad attitude, then there's no point in sending you to school at all," he continued, "do you want to be homeschooled again?"

"No, no really! I'm fine. I'm just really tired."

"Do you need to start going to bed earlier?" his mother asked.

"Uh, yeah, I guess."

"Then it's settled,' his father said, getting up from the table and sauntering away, "Thank you for dinner, Kelly."

His mother smiled at her husband and got up as well.

"Help me put the dishes away, Tyler."

"M'kay."

_> Can i ever tell them?_

_> You have asked me the same question a thousand times, and I will give the same answer each time: you cannot. You must not._

_> Why not?_

_> Because they are not true soldiers of the Kingdom. They claim to love me, claim to follow me, claim that I have saved them, but in truth? They are dead inside. Do you know what they will do if you told them the truth? They will do the same to you that they have done to every prophet before you. _

_> Then who is a true soldier? Who can I trust?_

_> Trust only me, and whoever I tell you to trust. I will not lead you astray. A true soldier is someone who has been chosen to set aside their life for Me. Think of the twelve disciples. Each of them had promising earthly careers, as fishermen, tax collectors, and farmers. They could have been materialistically happy. But when my Son asked them to follow Him and become instruments of His cause, they did it. And although it is not mentioned, there were many He asked who rejected him, and infinitely many more throughout his ministry. Very, very few people have walked on the narrow road without falling off forever._

_> Am I there?_

_> Yes. You have been selected by me, and have properly learned to depend on me, and I hope that you will continue to do so. However, this does not guarantee anything. Salvation can, contrary to popular belief, be revoked. You must be careful to ensure that you never fall away._

_> i promise you i won't._

_> A promise means nothing if it isn't kept. _ 

_> i know. i'll try my best to keep it._

_> Don't try. Do it._

_> Okay. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of what God is telling Tyler is what my pastor talks about. I don't know what the hell is wrong with my church sometimes.


	3. THE FRIEND

**2011- August**

The bar was nearly empty, which wasn’t unusual for a Wednesday night. Tyler sat on his stool, sipping his soda. He didn’t drink liquor; the only reason he came here was for the bands that came here. He had no idea who ran the bar and chose the music, but he would like to shake their hand for their taste in music.

This night’s band was a four-piece that called themselves ‘No Tagbacks’. He felt bad that they were stuck playing gigs in tiny bars on weekday nights, they really deserved a bigger audience. They were really good, and Tyler probably would have been cheering if he wasn’t the only person in the bar.

They blasted their last notes and there was a beat of silence as everyone caught their breaths.

“So uh, thanks for coming tonight, we’re No Tagbacks and we love you,” the lead singer said to no one but Tyler and the bartender.

Tyler drained the last of his warm Coke and rubbed his eye as the band began packing up. He wondered if he could buy a CD from them.

He slipped out of the bar and into the alley. He jumped a little when he saw the drummer a few feet away, the red cherry of a cigarette glowing in the blue night. He walked up to him, the heady stench of the smoke becoming more apparent with every step he took.

“Hi,” the drummer said, a bit nervous at first but relaxing when Tyler crossed his arms and leaned against the wall with him.

“Hey, I saw you guys play in there. You guys were really good,” he said.

“Really?”

He couldn’t see the man’s face in the darkness, but his voice was eager and pleased.

“Yeah!” he said.

“Thank you, man,” he said, and he took another puff of his cigarette, “I really mean it.”

“So do I.”

He laughed, even though it wasn’t that funny, and he coughed a bit on the smoke.

“You’re probably the first person who’s ever said that, y'know?”

“Really?”

“Yup. Sometimes it feels like no one really cares and it’s disheartening at times. Makes you want to just quit. But I’m not here to complain. I’m glad we got to play here today, and that you liked us so much.”

He was a bit surprised at how open and friendly this man was, sort of like a puppy. All that energy he had was clearly not limited to the stage.

“So what’s your name?” Tyler asked.

“My name’s Josh,” he said, smoking, “And you?”

“Tyler.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Tyler. It feels glad to know the name of our number one fan.”

“I’m sure there’s more people out there that like you guys,” Tyler protested, and Josh laughed (not bitterly; Tyler liked that).

“I hope so.”

They fell into a comfortable silence. A bit of ash crumbled away from the cigarette onto the damp ground.

“You guys got any merch? I wanna spread the word,” Tyler said.

“Nope. We got CDs, though. They’re five dollars.”

“Sign me up,” Tyler said, reaching into his pocket and handing him the bill.

There goes his month’s savings.

Josh pocketed the money and stamped out his cigarette, getting off the wall and starting to walk out of the alley.

“Alright, let’s get to the van. They’re in there.”

“I get to see your ride? Sick, dude,” Tyler joked as he followed Josh.

“Remember, backstage passes for the first ten people,” Josh deadpanned.

Their laughter echoed off the barren urban landscape.

They made it into the parking lot, and Josh opened up the back doors of the van, which looked like it was a pothole away from completely falling apart. The interior was no better, filled with old fast food wrappers and spare equipment tossed here and there. He rooted around in the mess, Tyler standing back a few feet as he searched for the discs.

“So where’s the rest of the band?” Tyler asked.

“They’re in the bar drinkin’ our paycheck away,” he chuckled.

“You’re not joining in on the decadence, huh? You the driver?”

Josh paused.

“I guess you could say that,” he said, continuing to search, “I don’t drink. Oh, here they are.”

He pulled out a small, dinged-up cardboard box. He sat down on the bumper of the van and opened it, pulling out a CD in a clear jewel case and a Sharpie. He opened case and uncapped the marker, writing something onto the blank disc. Tyler watched him silently, eagerly receiving the CD when Josh handed it to him. The disc now read, 'No Tagbacks- Ten Months’, and below it, initials and a phone number, 'J.D. 614-094-8429’

“Backstage passes, meet and greet, and an autograph? This must be my lucky day,” Tyler said.

Josh laughed again, and Tyler could see that his tongue would poke from between his movie-star teeth when he smiled.

“You’re a pretty cool guy, Tyler. I’d hate this to be our only conversation, y'know? And now we can keep talking. If you want, of course.”

“Of course I want to, you’re not so shabby yourself,” Tyler said, admiring the way the light bounced off the CD, “And I wanna know when you guys are playing so I can be there. Maybe I’ll bring a few friends.”

“Could you? It’d really boost Tim’s morale.”

“Sure.”

He didn’t have enough friends to bring to a concert, but it was the thought that counted, right?

“Thank you so much, dude.”

“No problem.”

Tyler got out his phone and added the number to his contacts, then sent a 'beep boop’ his way. Josh’s phone buzzed. He looked at his phone, then Tyler.

“Beep boop?” he asked.

“Beep boop,” he confirmed.

Another comfortable silence, but this one was broken by an enormous yawn that ripped itself from Tyler’s lungs. His phone clock read twelve thirty-seven.

“Hey, it was really nice talking to you, but it’s getting a kinda late,” Tyler said.

“Oh, really?”

He checked his own phone.

“Damn, you’re right. I didn’t even notice. My sleep schedule is like, damaged beyond repair.”

“So’s mine, it’s getting worse every day,” he said.

“You should head home and get some sleep. There’s still hope for you. Escape while you can!”

Tyler laughed and turned, waving goodbye.

“It was really nice to talk to you, Josh,” he said.

“You too dude. I hope we see each other again soon. Bye!”

“Bye!”

Tyler looked back a couple times as he walked away. Josh was still sitting there on the bumper of the van, staring at the ground, completely alone under the orange light like a spotlight and the scene was so lonely and perfect it looked like it belonged in a painting.

He walked home, CD tucked inside his jacket.

* * *

  **September**

They talked. They talked a lot. Having a friend felt good.

They were at Josh’s house, about a month later, watching a movie. It was nothing like Tyler had ever seen before, full of guns and blood and shirtless men and women alike. He watched in awe and fear, trying not to flinch whenever another character met a grisly end because he didn’t want Josh to laugh. He knew movies like these were popular, but he’d been told by both his parents and God alike that they were bad.

Now that he thought about it, Josh was a pretty bad influence. Dead-end job, no college education, with tattoos and piercings and mouth filthy with curses and cigarettes, and lately, he’s been talking about shaving his hair into a mohawk. He could practically hear his parents ordering him to stay away. God hadn’t said anything about him yet, though probably because he didn’t ask Him about it. He didn’t want to hear what He knew He’d have to say about Josh.

At least he didn’t drink.

A car crashed onscreen and Tyler was caught unaware, yelping like a kicked puppy and grabbing Josh’s attention.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine,” he said, though a cold sweat was starting to creep from his brow.

Josh squinted.

“Are you sure? We can watch something else if you-”

“Really, it’s no problem. I have to get used to this stuff if I’m gonna be hanging out with you, yeah?”

“Not really. We’re different people, we’ve got boundaries.”

Tyler waved him off.

“Anyways, my parents never let me watch this stuff so this is kinda liberating,” he said.

“You too? Your parents, I mean,” Josh said.

Their attentions were fully turned away from the movie.

“Yeah, like, they wouldn’t let me listen to the radio. They’d buy those Kidz Bop CDs and said I could listen to those. Even until I was sixteen.”

Josh laughed.

“You know what my parents did?”

“What?”

“There’s this one movie studio- at least I think they were a studio? Anyways, they’d censor all the nudity and cursing and stuff out of R-rated movies so kids could watch them and stuff. My parents would order those movies in the mail, and I remember watching 'Terminator’ when I was about fourteen and the movie made like, no sense at all because they’d literally just cut out the parts where anything nasty happened so obviously the plot was pretty butchered. If you go to their house, all those old movies are in there. I should show you a few sometime because they’re just so weird.”

“Oh my gosh.”

“Yeah. Y'know, this is the movie. 'Terminator’.”

Tyler looked back at the TV. The two heroes were about a second away from having sex and Tyler was glad that he only had to see that out of one eye.

“Oh,” he mumbled.

Josh looked at the screen, then Tyler’s shocked face, and laughed so hard he nearly fell off the sofa.

“I’m sorry!” he said, wiping tears from his eyes, “It’s just- your face, oh my God.”

There was that phrase again, but Tyler put aside the clenching feeling because it was nice seeing Josh happy.

“You done?” he asked, eyebrow quirked.

“Two more seconds, maybe. Okay, I’m good.”

Josh looked at his friend. He always seemed so somber. Josh reached across the sofa and pressed his cheeks together, laughter beginning to bubble up inside him when Tyler frowned (which looked absolutely ridiculous with his face like that)

“Why?” he whined.

“Dunno. Your face is like, a grandma’s wet dream, your cheeks are so squishy.”

Josh howled when Tyler’s face twisted with disgust.

“Ew!” he shouted.

Tyler was laughing, as scandalized as he was. As they were coming down, a burst of pain bloomed behind his left eye. He yelped and pressed a palm against it. Josh’s grin immediately slid off his face, morphing into one of concern.

“Hey, Ty, are you alright?”

“Y-yeah- augh!”

He knew what those headaches meant.

“Lemme get you some water. Do you want any aspirin?” Josh said as he switched off the TV.

“It’s not gonna help, Josh,” he groaned, hating himself for ruining their good time.

“Well I’m gonna see if it does anything anyways,” he said, going to the kitchen.  

>Don’t taint yourself.

Josh drove him home, Tyler still rubbing his head.

“I’m really sorry about all this,” Tyler said as they stopped in front of his apartment.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” Josh said, indignant that Tyler would blame himself, “You didn’t do this on purpose. That’s not even possible!”

Tyler was quiet for a beat too long.

“Tyler? Are you okay?”

Should he tell him? He shut his eyes and listened for His voice. There was nothing. He figured it was safe to proceed.

“It’s a really long story,” he said.

He could practically hear Josh’s brows furrowing.

“I’ve got time,” he said, leaning a bit closer to Tyler.

Tyler sighed.

“Okay. You’re the first person I’ve ever told about this. So, I’m partially blind. In my left eye. But that’s not the weird part. The weird part is that I can… see stuff with it.”

“Stuff? Like visions and stuff?”

“Yeah, visions. I’ve had a bunch over the years. And more important than the visions is the voice.”

Josh was looking at him like he had just admitted to murder.

“You believe me, right?” Tyler asked, suddenly desperate.

Josh hesitated for a second.

“If I’m gonna be honest with you, no.”

Tyler’s heart sank a thousand miles.

“I- I-” he started.

Another wave of pain gnawed at his skull.

“I never should have told you,” he finished.

“No no, keep talking, okay? Just because I don’t believe you now doesn’t mean I can’t be convinced.”

His words didn’t make him feel much better after his betrayal, but he nodded and continued.

“So this voice. This voice is God. He’s been teaching me since I was young. How to be a true follower and stay pure so I’ll be ready when the time comes.”

“What time?”

“A lot of things. Reforming the church. Teaching others the truth. Being a divine instrument.”

Josh nodded tersely. He looked even more worried now. Tyler shuddered under his judgment.

“Like, I know it sounds crazy. It is crazy. But it’s real. He’s done things in my life. He’s gifted me.”

“Gifted you with what?”

“The visions, like they give me knowledge and wisdom that I would never have figured out myself, and- and sometimes I do… impossible things. Miracles. I feel His power in me whenever I perform one.”

“C-could you show me?”

“I can’t just do it whenever I want. Otherwise, I’d be abusing it horribly.”

“What can you do?”

“It’s only happened twice. But it happened. The first time, He told me to- to kill this bird. I did. He told me about how I was a metaphor for all of humanity, the bird was Jesus, and then he made me lay my hands on it and the bird came back to life. It looked even healthier than it did before. And it rested on my shoulder before flying away. That was when I was eleven. The second time was when I was at church. I was in the bathroom, and the only other person there was this one kid who was in my youth group. Randy, his name was. God told me to read him. I sensed a presence. I went up to him and I told him, 'begone’ really loudly, and I- I saw this cloud of smoke come out of his mouth. Pitch black. And it just kept coming out, for a good minute or so until he just collapsed on the ground. He was alive, and I told the pastor that he fainted. I didn’t tell him about all the smoke. And Randy never said anything about the smoke. He thought he fainted too. But I cast out a demon or something.”

Josh’s jaw was practically on the floor now. Tyler watched him try to swallow, Adam’s apple bobbing. He knew he thought something was wrong with him. His eye throbbed.

“And there’s more, I don’t even know why I’m still talking about this- man, I knew you’d think I’m crazy! Just- just-”

He stammered and sputtered, searching for the right words. Josh began to open his mouth to speak, but Tyler cut him off before those damning words could pass his lips.

“Forget it. I’m going home. Thank you for the ride, Josh.”

He opened the door and practically ran to his apartment building, nearly tripping on the stairs. He heard Josh drive away as he entered, and Tyler couldn’t help but watch him leave. That was probably the last he’d ever see of his first close friend. Fuck.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Tagbacks was the old name of the band House of Heroes, which Josh played in for a time before joining Twenty One Pilots. It’s not consistent with the timeline but I wanted to use it. Here’s a link to a song from their first album.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vi_PYwCzrMw
> 
> Updates are probably going to be rescheduled to once a week. I found that I do not have the energy to update that often, so apologies to you guys.


	4. HOLY TERRORS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where the gore warning comes in.

Only one tear managed to escape his eyes on the way up the elevator.  

He fumbled with his keys at his door, tear-blurred vision keeping him from finding the correct one. He finally found it, and stormed inside, collapsing on the couch and heaving a single, loud sob into the cushions. 

_> GOD, why didn't you stop me? He was my friend. And now he thinks i'm crazy._

_> I knew you would defy me if I outright told you not to speak. I would have withheld you like I did when you were younger, in need of more guidance, but you are an adult and I want to see if you can take your own steps. You've grown your teeth, and now you must learn to handle your responsibilities, to police yourself. And you have disappointed me. _

_> Father, i'm sorry. i won't do it again. _

_> But you will. Sheep are so easily lead astray. For sixteen years, I have personally tutored you, and even now you still fail. But I am a patient GOD, I am not easily angered, I keep no record of wrongs.   _

_> Even still, i apologize. _

_> Yes, though you still fail, you have still learned something from me. Imagine all those people who weren't as lucky as you. Think of how far they are from me.  _

Though his vision was already dark due to the cushions, it seemed to grow darker. Tyler's heart quickened when he realized what he was being shown. Again.  

Wailing. Faint, but quickly growing louder and louder until it seemed as if all of Hell was howling right in his eardrums. Billions of voices, each speaking their native tongue, all cursing God, themselves, and each other. He'd cover his ears if he could, but his body felt immaterial and it wouldn't work anyway. His headache intensified and spread to his entire body until he was one gigantic, throbbing bruise.  

The infinite darkness became more infinite, and the faint contrast provided him with enough knowledge of what was happening before his special eye. But he never knew what he would see first.  

God appeared first, which was a relief. Instead of the stormy gray he always remembered, he was a brilliant shining white, casting light into the pit. Dirty souls groaned and tried to pull towards him, and they were yanked back into the darkness by some unknown force. Though it was He who was showing Tyler such horrendous things, he took His hand and let himself be pulled forward.  

A grove of trees appeared before him, with large leaves, large fruit, and twisted trunks. The silhouettes of repulsive forms climbed ladders up to the highest branches of the trees, plucking the fruit and unhinging freakishly wide jaws to bite. Screams erupted from the fruit as they were cracked open by the creatures' teeth. He tried to pull away, but the image only became more detailed, and he could see that the fruits were in fact heads, the five-pointed leaves hands, and the branches and trunk consisted of torsos and limbs twisted and fused together in a mockery of a tree.  God walked him through the grove, and the leaves quivered and the branches waved like there was a breeze. Even the demons facilitating their torture stopped to watch Him in awe. He ignored them and kept walking through the enormous grove. The faces wailed at Tyler, and he couldn't tear his eyes away from the faces that he never knew but all seemed familiar. He squeezed His hand tighter.  

A blink of an eye, and now they were in a flat, muddy plain. The air was colder and damper here, and a cloud of fog rested on the ground. Tyler's feet squelched on the mud, trying to suck him in, and fat, white maggots squirmed out from the soil he had stepped on. God's feet remained about a foot off the ground. He tried to float like Him, but to no avail. This was a part of the punishment.  

Various tortures occurred behind the curtain of fog. One man was being dragged through the mud by his tongue (stretched unreasonably long) by a hunched, dark green figure, blood all over his chest from where his tongue was slowly being ripped out from the root. He thrashed like a fish on a line, trying to crawl to keep up with the demon's fast pace. A woman sat cross-legged on the ground, stroking her gray flesh. The white maggots that hid themselves in the mud had all crawled into her, coalescing in her brains and eating it from the inside out until nothing but her translucent scalp was left. He could see the worms wriggling about furiously, looking for something to devour. They poured from her ears and mouth, and they ate her cheeks, leaving her a grimacing wretch. She saw God and reached out for Him, maggots pouring from her mouth. Tyler wondered why she didn't stand, and he saw that the ends of her legs were nothing but rotting shreds. 

 _> Oh._  

He didn't know when He would let him go. He might as well be keeping him here forever, in Tyler's mind.  

 _> Just a few more examples. I must discipline my children. _ 

They walked past infinitely many more souls. All of them begged to be released. They all went ignored. 

_> GOD, why can't you save these people? Please, look at how much they're suffering. Do they really deserve this? _

_> you already know the answer to this question.  _

_> i do.  _

_> you think these people aren't that bad. But that is because you are so used to SIN all around you that you have become hardened to it. you do not understand how truly repulsive and abhorrent it is. _

_> i don't, Father. _

_> A single sin is enough to earn death. Never, ever forget that.  _

_> i will not. _

Tyler accidentally stepped on a tiny leg, buried in the muck. Something attached to it cried out, a voice belonging to someone no older than seven. Nausea roiled through his insides.  

The muddy plain never seemed to end. Tyler clung to God's hand and let him pull him farther. It was calloused and warm, like his earthly father's before he turned to stone (he was somewhere in here now). He could not see His face, but waves of satisfaction floated off of Him. He had learned how to trust him again.

Tyler swallowed his fear and outrage as they walked further. He could not shut his eyes or turn away, but reminding himself that these people deserved it had the same effect.

Tyler nearly walked through God when He came to a sudden stop. They were standing in front of a wide, flat rock like a table. Or an altar, which seemed more appropriate for the scene set out before him.

The man was chained, limbs stretched so far they looked moments away from popping out of their sockets. His hair had been burnt and yanked out, small tufts and strands barely hanging on to a loose scalp. The only thing about him that seemed untouched were his eyes, shining white and fearful in the midst of every evil.

Two hulking creatures flanked him, carrying long, thin knives, the ones used for cutting fish. They carved impossibly thin slices from his thighs, his stomach, his cheeks, and the flesh piled up on the ground beside the stone platform, black, congealed blood staining everything.

He was ragged and gray and bloody, but it was indisputably him.

"Josh?"

The man looked at him.

Immediately the spell was broken.

Josh thrashed on the stone, the sacrifice suddenly rejecting its higher calling and called out to Tyler, begging him to set him free. The blood gushed profusely now, more than should be inside a single body. The demonic things tending to him paid no attention to his wailing, only continuing to slice away at him.

Was this the future?

He wanted to scream, wanted to drag his heavy soul out by his chains and kiss his black wounds better. He knew there was a lesson to be learned but he damned it because that was his best friend, his first friend, and yes, he cursed God and looked at women and men the wrong way and did everything a person wasn't supposed to do, but no, he didn't deserve this. He didn't. The sunshine in his smile had to account for something.

God turned to look at him. His eyes were dangerously bright.

_> I warn you, I warn you again and again, and still you do not learn!_

_It took every bit of his strength to look away and answer Him._

_> Father, please._

_> Just because you love someone doesn't make them blameless._

_>...Yes, Father._

_> You've gravely disappointed me, tyler. I can see your soul. your anger rises up in defiance of my divine justice. Now, I must resort to much harsher treatments. SIN is a cancer. See how long you can last without me._

_> No, GOD, no, i can't survive without You._

_> you say this to my face, but in your heart, you plot against me._

_> Please._

_> This is for your own good, son. I hope that one day you will understand, on every level._

A crackling burst of pain swallowed him whole, his vision went white, and he was returned to the waking world.

Tyler sat up straight as a rod, stared blankly at the wall for two seconds, and then vomited all over the floor.

* * *

 

He woke up some hours later, the moon shining its beautiful silver light on Tyler and the fetid puddle of vomit. He felt disgusting, inside and out, and he still felt waves of nausea rolling through him as he got off the sofa and made his way to the bathroom to clean up.

He inspected his left eye in the mirror as he rinsed his mouth. It was bloodshot, like a vein had burst, and when he tilted his head towards the light, he saw that the pupil had dilated to an enormous size.

He shuddered, his injury too similar to what he had been shown. He wondered what would be done to him if (when?) he went to hell. Rocks were stuffed into the mouths of liars. Suicide victims were drowned in tar. Those who slandered God's name were burned alive, and those who did not believe he existed were swallowed by enormous snakes. He knew all this. 

In a way, he hated that he knew. He'd rather be like Josh, arrogant and happy and ignorant, than himself, who had seen, felt, and knew too much. An eternity in hell didn't sound so bad at the moment. Treasures in heaven didn't seem so appealing. He wanted to be happy _now._  Didn't he at least deserve that? 

He cursed his impatience and ungratefulness and left the bathroom and his thoughts behind to clean up the mess he had made in the living room, a billion ghosts of a million visions trailing after him and making him glance behind his back as he walked down the dark hallway, cleaning supplies in hand. 

He sat back down on the couch after he finished his job. He stared at the wall. A drawing of God was taped on it, framed by nothing but peeling, off-white paint. It had been done as carefully as a nineteen year old Tyler could manage, but it was still misshapen and didn't seem to accurately capture the dynamics of the clouds that made up His ever-shifting body. 

It felt even more dead now that He had left him alone. 

It was strange, Tyler thought, to have your head all to yourself. Like wearing a necklace every day for many years and one day going without it. It's disorienting. His thoughts constantly wandered to the lack of a _presence_ like a tongue running over the gum beneath a missing tooth. 

_> GOD?_

Of course there was nothing there. It didn't feel like there was a wall in the way between him and God, like there sometimes was when he had forgotten to pray, He was completely _gone._ A suddenly empty space. 

> _Father, i'm_ sorry!

Sorry means nothing when you don't change, he reminded himself. 

His eyes watered again. Why did he keep thinking his worst thoughts? Why was it so hard to change? 

Tyler's phone buzzed. He picked it up off the coffee table and looked at the too-bright screen. 

_Tyler?_

Sent at 5:38

_Tyler, I'm sorry for acting like a dick earlier. I should have stayed and listened to you. Are you feeling better now?_

Sent at 5:39

_I guess that's a no._

Sent at 5:42

_I'm always here to talk, you know. I'll listen this time. And I'll try to understand._

Sent at 5:42

_I promise._

Sent at 5:42

_Am I bothering you? Sorry if I am. I'm just worried._

Sent at 5:47

_I have to go to a show now, I'll talk to you in a few hours._

Sent at 5:53

_Your favorite drummer is back. How are you?_

Sent at 9:27

Maybe he wasn't that alone. 

 _Hi Josh._  

Sent at 9:31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tyler's visions of Hell is based off a testimony of a girl who claimed that Jesus showed her Hell. She made several paintings and many graphic descriptions of the torment endured by the people there. My mother showed the video to me when I was about twelve. It was the most awful thing I had ever seen. I managed to find one of the paintings online. I don't know if anyone wants to see it.


End file.
